Deer Run Trail, By David R LewisNodaway Trail, by David R LewisOn the Calico Trail, by David R LewisOn the Payback Trail, by David R LewisOn the Ogallala Trail, by David R LewisOn the Killdeer Trail, by David R LewisOn the Cutthroat Trail, by David R LewisEndless Journey Toward an Unknown Destination, by David R LewisIncidents Among the Savages, by David R LewisFear of the Father:  Call Me Crockett, by David R Lewis

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Four Lodges

His full name was “He-Who-is-Called-Four-Lodges-Are-His”.  Over two decades ago, my wife and I spent many hours in his company during a four or five year period.  We called him Four-Lodges or Grandfather, a term of respect – not relativity.  He was an American Indian of the Sioux Nation and why he chose to spend time with us was a mystery to me.  I asked him once and he replied it was because he had hope for us.

His age was hard to determine. He might have been in his 50s – or his 70s for that matter – it was not possible to judge, for he had not chosen to be of this time.  When he was only a boy, he was stricken by some type of serious illness, and spent nearly two weeks drifting in and out of a coma.  During that illness, he was administered to only by a medicine man, or man of magic.  When he finally recovered and regained consciousness – or as he phrased it, “Returned from The Great Mystery”, he was changed.  From then on, he lived much in the old ways.  He did not read or write, to my knowledge drove no automobile and, for the most part, shunned the trappings of what you and I might term civilization.

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